A scene from Kentucky Street, downtown Petaluma, a few
months into the new millennium: a handsome rancher couple in their late sixties,
walking up the west side of the street toward Aram’s.
They were dressed for a town engagement, she with stylish long dress and
necklace, he with creased dress jeans and Stetson hat. They carried themselves
with the dignity of a couple who had much in life of which to be proud.
A few minutes later, on the other side of the street, I
passed a man in his mid thirties, wearing the casual business attire of a
Telecom Valley executive. One hand held the cell phone to his ear, the other
hand gestured to the air as he talked business with a colleague. It seemed a
metaphor of Petaluma’s transition into the 21st century. The rancher
couple, Old Petaluma, on the sunset side of the street. Telecom man, New
Petaluma, rising from the east.
The rising sun of High Technology passed into a thick cloud
bank not long after that, but most would now agree Petaluma is entering a new
era. Downtown is decidedly different: the theater, new buildings, new shops in
the old buildings. It’s called “revitalization”, and we expect it will improve
our lives. It *will* be challenging to manage the obvious risks of growth, like
traffic congestion and loss of community identity. Even more difficult will be
gentrification, the loss of demographic and economic diversity. How do you not make
the town *so* wonderfully popular that a broad swath of people and businesses
are priced out?
I recently attended a neighborhood meeting at (ironically) the
Petaluma Country Club, sponsored by Pinnacle Homes. Pinnacle wants to build 11 mega-homes
on the old Hash ranch, on I Street just south of Westridge.
The neighbors were there to voice concerns about the project, expecting to
influence the plan. Concern turned to anger when it seemed that Pinnacle
considered their designs a done deal, and that the session was meant to sell the
neighbors on the project. I think Pinnacle should have talked with neighbors
earlier, getting input on conceptual plans. They also would have been well
advised not to claim their homes were not “ridge top development” when the
subdivision is called “Pinnacle Ridge.”
To their credit, Pinnacle did a state-of-the-art job of fitting
the maximum allowable number of very-large homes onto lots with sweeping views.
That’s where the biggest profit is; what else should we expect? They know a
majority of the current City Council doesn’t demand much of home builders. But
what kind of future we are building for this town? Pinnacle is planning homes
two to three times the size of the very comfortable 1950’s tract house I grew
up in. What kind of thinking is driving the demand for these creations? Do we
need 4200 square foot houses to attract people who can afford to shop in the
new upscale downtown?
I worry about the fate of the older, funkier, more agricultural
and more affordable Petaluma. Will it become our quaint history? Do we have to
give that up to get “revitalization”? I’d say no. Gandhi said the earth has
enough for everyone’s need, but not enough for everyone’s greed. I’m reminded of
what my friend said about his wealthy, materialistic parents: they have
everything but happiness.
What if we just decided we were going to build wealth in
ways that healed nature rather than degraded her? We could create demand for “light
houses”, residences that were light on the land and easy on the budget, and relatively
carefree to maintain; homes full of light, that we could heat and power with
free energy from the sun; homes that grew our food and brought neighbors and
people of all ages together to take care of each other; homes affordable by
teachers and farmers and telecom executives alike, and by their children, too.
In “Boomtown”, Greg Brown sings “It’ll boom just as long as
the boom has room.” Let’s take care to ensure our boom has room for everyone,
today and always.